Paradoxes
by Cyndi
Summary: Hope shone a cool light over his burning pain. .o SLASH ProwlxJazz, companion piece to 'Axioms' o.


Quick note: We saw what happened to Prowl in _Axioms_, so now I'm telling Jazz's side. This one's dedicated to anybody who had to spend those scary, helpless hours waiting while someone they loved was sick or hurt.

.o

****

Paradoxes

.o

_Basic instincts, social life.  
Paradoxes side by side_.

--Enigma, "Push the Limits"

.o

Jazz sighed heavily. He knew it'd be trouble when Sari started asking the Autobots about their birthdays. The whole team calculated their creation dates into standard Earth format to entertain her. All except for Prowl, because Prowl's serial number and creation records were locked. He had a fake public record put together cleverly enough to get him into the Academy. It bothered Jazz that Prowl wouldn't just use the mid-summer date on the public record. Who had to know his _real_ creation date was the only one in winter and happened to fall upon the human holiday known as Christmas?

Sari sure seemed excited when Prowl finally gave her the correct date. They'd get to celebrate it in snow, huddled warm under a stylish pine tree full of lights and colorful trinkets while waiting for some fat guy in a flying sleigh to drop off their presents.

Though, at the moment, Jazz didn't feel like planning any parties. He just spent three days in the brig because Prowl couldn't keep his nose out of top secret info. On top of that, Prowl kept talking about it! Jazz wanted to strangle him!

"...I discovered the gestalts. There were four, and they were pulled off the belt after I'd already gone by. Four mechs with exactly the same flaw as myself were dissected for study. One is in a gruesome museum meant solely to document the worst flaws ever seen in history. Every day, people go in and stare into his open skull case! It's as if they're gawking at _me_." Prowl tilted his handlebars towards Jazz's windshield. His voice held an icy edge bordering on rage. "What else don't I know, Jazz? What _else?_"

"Nothing! You got it all!" Jazz exploded. "I spent three fragging days in the brig, covering your aft! Haven't you done enough damage?"

"I want the truth."

"You have it."

"The computer had better not say otherwise. I will go in again. I know many proxies, Jazz."

"Yeah? Then how come I traced your entire path through the system?"

"I was careless. I won't be next time."

Did Prowl lose his mind? His little stunt wreaked havoc on the ship's computers. Jazz had to work fast to cover the tracks before Ultra Magnus even became aware of the security breach. Now all sectors were being fully monitored. Prowl would be discovered the second he made a connection. No stealth technology could mask him completely. He'd be found out. His flaw would be found out. Within the hour he'd be kissing his life goodbye.

All because he had to be so slagging nosy.

Jazz pulled in front of Prowl and slammed on his breaks. Prowl transformed to avoid a crash. Jazz did the same. He whirled around, grabbed Prowl's shoulders and shoved him against the empty building beside the road. The structure was so old that pieces crumbled off on impact.

"You're out of your mind, Prowl!" Jazz cried, giving Prowl a shake. "Your protoform records are top secret!"

Prowl's thin top lip pulled off his teeth and his body tensed in Jazz's grasp. "I think I have a right to know my own creation date." He was angrier than Jazz had ever seen him. Black explosions pounded like thunder through their bond. "Why was I never told about the gestalts who came after me?"

Jazz opened his mouth, then closed it again before he said something hurtful. Those records _had_ to remain secret. The public was kept largely in the dark about the true percentage of flaws and mistakes made during the protoforming process. One quarter of the mechs walking around today had no idea they had one or more flawed gestalt twins that never saw daylight. Two out of every ten Jazz met had a flawed, aborted twin. Like Bulkhead...Jazz knew he had a flawed twin because he was the one who shut that poor creature down and shoved his remains into the compactor. The flaw? No mouth--no energon processing systems--no way to absorb nutrition. That mech would not have survived.

"Just..." Jazz's jaw tightened, "They keep the flaw records secret for a reason!"

"Why?" Prowl's voice remained low, "Because society can't stand dents in its perfection?"

Jazz gritted his teeth so he wouldn't swear. "That's not what I said!"

"Yes, Jazz, you said it without saying it!" Prowl sneered. "You wouldn't be gritting your teeth if I wasn't right!"

"Prowl, if you hack the system again, I swear..."

"What?" He jerked forward until their noses bumped. "You swear what? That you'll turn me--"

There was a bang and Jazz's world went white. The concussion wave ripped Prowl from his grasp. Everything dissolved in blinding, windy confusion.

"**_PROWL!_**" he screamed through the sooty air. No answer. He was still yelling when something smashed into the back of his head.

.o

"--he's coming around. Give him room."

Jazz felt his systems slowly blinking online. Bright, rectangular lights marking the Elite Guard ship's medical bay cut harshly into his optics. No tint...that meant his visor was up. Prowl's medic, Ratchet, stood near his head. Sentinel loitered by the door through which Jazz could see Optimus. Then he looked to the left when Ultra Magnus stopped beside the medical berth.

"Sir," Jazz managed a salute.

"At ease."

"Where's Prowl?"

Ratchet and Ultra Magnus exchanged a look. Ratchet nodded and left the room.

Jazz felt panic rising in his throat. The somber look on his commanding officer's face said it all, but Jazz didn't want to comprehend the silent message. "Sir...where's Prowl?"

"There was no trace of Prowl anywhere. We believe he was vaporized in the explosion."

Vaporized. Blown apart. Nothing. _Nothing_.

Emptiness opened and swallowed Jazz's Spark whole. Why wasn't there pain? He heard everywhere that a surviving bond mate suffered agony when their mate died. Maybe he was unconscious throughout the break.

"That can't be true," Jazz said shakily. "I feel like he's still alive."

He felt Ultra Magnus lay a large hand on his shoulder. "You were unconscious for three hours, Jazz. The explosion scrambled your sensory circuits. It's highly possible your Spark hasn't recognized the loss."

"He--he can't be..." Jazz hugged himself and shuddered. "He--"

Ultra Magnus squeezed his shoulder. "Prowl died, Jazz. I'm so sorry."

"No!" Jazz pulled away from his commander and leapt off the berth. His world swam in echoes that sounded eerily like Prowl's voice. "No, no, _no!_ No way. Not possible. That's--that's fragged! Somebody missed something."

"Jazz--"

His throat ached. "No!"

He bolted past everyone, transformed into vehicle mode and roared towards the smoke still rising over the buildings in the city. Paying little mind to the humans trying to put out the surrounding fires--they scattered when he approached--he skidded into the rubble, assumed his bipedal form and tore at the debris. Dust and ash coated his body until the white turned deathly gray. Nothing. He spun around to kick a beam aside when the sunlight caught his eye.

No, not the sun, something imbedded in the remains of a wall. Jazz had to shatter the cement to get it.

One of Prowl's throwing disks, shiny and new, as if it'd just been thrown.

Jazz clutched it until one sharp point dug into his hand.

The harsh reality of it smashed into him with the weight of the universe. All of it banged around his processors and welled around his Spark and throat. Boiling, burning, an explosion contained by the self control he was rapidly losing.

Another lover lost.

Another lover he failed to save.

It all hit at once and the tears came hard and fast, driving him to his knees.

"Prowl...oh, Prowl...I'm so sorry. You were right there and I--" he clutched the disk between his hands as if in prayer, "--I'm just so fragging sorry, Prowl!"

Footsteps approached from behind. Jazz felt himself grasped by the shoulders and drawn close to a strong chest. He wept openly while a broad hand cupped the back of his head.

"Why..." Jazz choked, "_Why?_"

"I wish I had an answer for you, Jazz." Ultra Magnus answered softly. "I asked the same thing four million years ago, when I saw my bond mate die. Sometimes things just...happen..."

"No. I can't accept that!" Jazz clenched his fists. "It can't end like _this_. We--we were fighting. W-we were--angry at each other. He was supposed to die old...in my arms...or me in his...while saying 'I love you.' Not like this. Not like _this!_"

"He knew you loved him even in your anguish."

"I can't even hold him." It hurt. Every word hurt. "I can't even kiss him goodbye."

The other mech hugged his shoulders tighter. For a moment it seemed those arms were the only things holding his sanity together. "I...I am so sorry, Jazz."

At the same time, Jazz realized everyone in the area had seen his outburst. Being silly was one thing, but looking weak proved entirely different. Embarrassed, he freed himself from Ultra Magnus' grasp and lowered his visor to hide his eyes.

The larger bot's expression was genuinely sad when he looked up.

"As ninja mourning customs go, you are allowed off-duty for one week, starting now." Ultra Magnus stood and Jazz saw a reflection of his own grief flicker across his aged face. His tone was soft, informal, spoken from the lips of a friend and not a commanding officer. "If you need anything, ask me and I will grant it. Cost is not an issue. Also...Jazz...considering the circumstances, I will not press charges on you for covering the hacker. Just don't let anything like that happen again. I can not be this lenient twice."

"Un-understood. Thank you, commander." Jazz clutched the throwing disk to his chest. The tears had stopped flowing for now, but he knew there would be more. He numbly transformed and followed his commanding officer back to the ship. Memories of Prowl's voice and hands left a trail of whispers that bore holes in his Spark. Right then he would've given anything for one last kiss.

When they arrived back at the ship, Sentinel shot him a sympathetic look. The expression of yet another mech who lost someone they loved. Jazz patted his shoulder and dragged himself inside. He felt hands touch and pat his back as he made his way quietly to his private quarters. There, he spotted the little Infinity Statue Prowl gave him months ago and the tears started all over again.

"Prowl..." Jazz whimpered. The irrational side of him clung to the belief that saying his lover's name would some how make him not dead, so he chanted it until he cried himself into recharge.

.o

He woke up twelve hours later to silence. His entire world was changed. It felt wrong and unbalanced without its center. Everything inside him ached with an emptiness blacker than the voids of space. Being awake meant existing in a life Prowl wasn't part of anymore.

Because Prowl was dead.

Dead.

_Dead_.

**_Dead._**

Jazz **_hated_** that word! He hated it for separating them forever without the kindness of a last kiss or apology. Death was an inevitability that had no mercy on the living.

_'I will never die on you,' he promised...he promised and still died! Prowl...why?_ Jazz gazed at the throwing disk still clutched in his hand. Light thumb pressure deployed the razor sharp blades with a soft clank. He retracted his visor and gazed deeply at the distorted reflections of his own spindle-shaped optics. Golden-hued mech fluid hung like a haze around their lower edges. He smiled bitterly.

"To think, some people out there whine about how annoying their lovers are."

Jazz pulled at his chest armor until the glow of his Spark shimmered across the blades. He didn't have to think about it. There was no life without his Prowl. His gaze moved to the floor, where he kept a model of planet Cybertron under his berth. "Primus, if ya have audios big enough to hear somebody this far away...gimme one good reason not to do this. Otherwise I'm comin' your way, and I'll be lookin' for Prowl."

Silence.

All he had to do was shove Prowl's blade through his Spark. The metal would destabilize it and send him offline. Painful, ugly...but in the Ancient ways, ending one's life with their lover's weapon guaranteed they'd see each other again.

"Last chance..."

Nothing.

Jazz held the bladed disk in front of his naked Spark. He extended his arms, whispered Prowl's name and--

"Optimus to Jazz!"

Jazz grunted and collapsed to his knees, the blade millimeters from his Spark. "Not a good time, Prime."

"With all due respect, Jazz, you'll want to hear this." Optimus cleared his vocal processor, "Teletraan one has just picked up a distress beacon."

"So?"

"It's Prowl's."

Jazz's Spark leapt with hope and the throwing disk slipped from his suddenly limp fingers. Was he dreaming? "W-where?"

"Somewhere near where you two went camping a few months back."

Hope shone a cool light over his burning pain. It was like the sweetness of a rust stick balled up behind his Spark.

Prowl, alive.

Prowl, safe.

_Prowl_.

"Say no more. Gimme the coordinates. I'm on my way."

Optimus transmitted the numbers. Jazz grabbed the disk he dropped and bolted from the room, pausing just long enough to bow in gratitude towards the model of Cybertron beneath his berth.

.o

Driving from the ship to the forest would be the longest hour of Jazz's life. Every red light took eons and every road seemed infinitely long. But, finally, he transformed and raced down the familiar dirt path where he expected to see Prowl waiting.

Instead, Jazz found Optimus kneeling over something small and crumpled lying in the dirt. Even worse, he had Prowl's _visor_ in his hand. He warily held back until he noticed Optimus sliding the visor back onto Prowl's face.

Prowl moved his legs. They were aimless, fruitless movements.

"Prowl, if you can hear me, I won't tell anyone." Optimus leaned closer, "You hear me? I won't tell."

Jazz blew a relieved sigh. He ran over and collapsed to his knees in wet dirt that smelled like vomited coolant--and didn't care. He'd kneel in Prowl's sludge if it meant he could hold him again.

Optimus and Jazz locked eyes. The Prime gave an imperceptible nod, moving his hand off Prowl's shoulder. "Prowl...it's Jazz. See? He's here."

Prowl just scratched at the side of his own face. His head lolled side to side, almost as if it wasn't quite connected to his shoulders. Jazz knew these movements all too well because most of the flawed mechs he used to euthanize acted exactly like this. Prowl's cognitive processors were offline, but his sensory circuits didn't follow suit. His reactions were all primitive reflexes. He was in a vegetative state. Sensing, but unable to process, communicate or remember anything he'd experience before he regained full consciousness.

Still, he _could_ hear...

"Hey, Prowl. It's Jazz. I'm here, baby." Jazz rubbed Prowl's chest and tried to hold his head still. Worked like a dream--Prowl stopped squirming. Jazz kept talking, his voice soft and gentle. "I'm right here. Shhh, there you go. There you go. It's all right now."

Prowl's hand shot up and collided with Jazz's face. His fingers clung and crawled just as they had in his first moments so long ago. Jazz caught the hand, pressed his lips to the palm and nuzzled it while thanking Primus for letting him feel Prowl's touch again.

Optimus' optics widened. "How did you--"

"I used to work in the scrap yard. I...used to put down flawed mechs. Most of 'em came out without a central processor in their heads. This would be their lives. It was always assumed the flawed weren't aware of anything. But...one day...I pulled a screaming mech out of a compactor and tried to snuff out his Spark. That mech spoke to me. Never heard a flawed mech talk before. I let him go and I quit the scrap yard. Couldn't keep killin' people who might've been more awake than I thought."

"And that mech you let go," Optimus lowered his eyes. "Did you ever find out what happened to him?"

"Yeah." Jazz nodded, meeting Optimus' optics. He gestured to Prowl. "You're looking at him. We found out by accident when we fell down the mine. That's when I knew he was the one for me...that's when we bonded."

"Heh." Optimus' expression softened into a smile. "Love favors the lucky, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Jazz eyed Optimus. He was such a good-looking mech, why didn't he have a bond mate?

Shaking his head, Jazz decided not to ponder it too much. Right now his priority was Prowl. He pressed his lips against Prowl's brow and shifted to embrace him.

"Jazz, wait!"

Too late.

Prowl's upper body bent the wrong way when Jazz moved him. Metal groaned and creaked. The top half of his lower back felt wrong...too soft. Agitating the injury made Prowl scream and flail like a protoform. Unfiltered pain shot across their bond in blinding white shockwaves. Jazz almost threw up from the agony. Optimus had to steady him so he wouldn't collapse and injure Prowl worse.

Optimus quickly rearranged Prowl into the supine position he'd been in before. "Something's wrong with his back."

"Gotcha. Okay, okay...I'm sorry, Prowl. I'm sorry...shh, shh, there, you're okay. You're okay." Jazz went back to rubbing his chest. It seemed to help a little. He felt guilty for causing him more pain. "Might have a pinched wire or something. Kinda wish I had X-ray capabilities so I could check myself."

"He did the same thing when I turned him over," Prime frowned. "I had no idea he wasn't fully aware of me because of his...uh..."

"Lack of eyes?"

"Yeah."

Jazz would've said more, but Prowl's Spark-pulse was getting more and more irregular. It worried him. "He's not stable. What's Ratchet's ETA?"

"Five minutes from now."

"We don't have that long!"

Optimus shook his head. "I--"

Jazz exposed Prowl's Spark. The idea he had was dangerous, but Prowl's life depended on it. "If you're a prude, I really do apologize if this embarrasses you. I've got to keep him stable."

With that, Jazz bared his own Spark and brought it into contact with Prowl's. Doing this in a non-aroused state _hurt_ and it was all he could do not to holler. He felt his lover's weakening Spark slowly adjust itself to match his rhythm and voltage.

"Jazz! That's dangerous! If he goes offline, you--"

"I--won't--lose him..." Jazz grunted. He almost laughed when Prowl's twitching slowed. Prowl wasn't conscious, but his Spark recognized its mate. Jazz kissed him lightly and cupped his cheek. "Yeah, you know it's me, don't ya? You're gonna be okay, Prowl. Hang on...I won't let you go. Prime--monitor me--just in case."

"Already on it."

The next five minutes were hellish agony and disjointed memories of a ship that smelled like a cold, stale scrap yard.

Sirens broke the quiet. Optimus stood up to inform Ratchet of Prowl's condition. The medic hurried over.

"Your Spark's going to go critical! Disconnect."

"But--"

Ratchet's tone softened a half degree. "I only got enough equipment to stabilize one bot. You've done enough, kid. I can take over from here."

"O-okay." Jazz braced himself before painfully freeing himself from his bond mate's unstable Spark. "Augh! He's--still--unstable..." he panted, "Tried--to hold him--couldn't regulate..."

"You kept him alive." Ratchet was uncharacteristically gentle, "I can hold him stable. You just sit back and let your systems cool down."

"I can assist if you need to do surgery. I'm not technically a medic, but I have the trainin' for it."

"Fine." Ratchet placed two electrodes on either side of Prowl's Spark chamber and flipped a switch that instantly regulated the weakening Spark. Then one of his optics transformed into a zoom lens and he scanned Prowl's entire body. His findings made him frown, but he did not elaborate beyond saying, "The shock knocked his main processor offline...it should come back on once I treat his injuries. Jazz, I might need you. So _stay put_ and regulate. You're no use if you pass out on me! Optimus, _hold_ Prowl's arms! I can't use the EMP generator while he's this unstable, I'll snuff his Spark right out. He's in severe shock."

Optimus held Prowl's wrists. Jazz rested his legs across Prowl's feet so he wouldn't kick. Ratchet worked quickly, strapping Prowl's torso and limbs to a backboard. Then he transformed into his ambulance mode and Optimus loaded Prowl into his back doors.

"Optimus, you stay with me. Jazz, you're good to go now. Run ahead and meet us at the warehouse. Keep your com open, I'll divert to your ship if he destabilizes en route." Ratchet started his sirens. "MOVE!"

Jazz dove into vehicle mode and sped ahead. No way was he arguing with the medic.

_Please, Prowl...be alive when I see you again_.

.o

Mercifully, Prowl lost all consciousness on the way to the warehouse. He was limp as death, the only sign he still lived at all being his colors hadn't faded. Ratchet had him lying facedown on the makeshift medical berth, which was a non-functional conveyor belt just wide enough to cradle Prowl's narrow body.

Jazz watched the medic unceremoniously detach the motorcycle seat from Prowl's back. Oil splattered all over his chest.

"Slag!" Ratchet attacked the bleeder with clamps and rags. "He musta been dropped from over a thousand feet! I can't believe he's still functional after a break like this."

"What?" Optimus leaned into the room, "What is it?"

"The fall shattered his back struts. His wiring is all that's holding him together." Ratchet shoved another rag into the soupy, oily mess surrounding Prowl's wiring. Jazz stood nearby, watching the monitors for any sign of Spark fluctuations. Ratchet went on, "I'm doing what I can. We may need to use the key."

Optimus nodded slowly and worry painted his every move. "Just keep him comfortable."

And so the delicate surgery continued for four more hours. Ratchet diligently re-attached the disconnected wiring that controlled Prowl's lower half while Jazz kept his eyes peeled for more oil leaks. He finished up by meticulously welding the broken chassis pieces back together. Prowl's internal repair system would finish what Ratchet started as long as the injured areas were kept immobile.

When Ratchet had done all he could with Prowl's spine, he patched the oil leaks with heavy solder and carefully reattached the seat to his back. Then he enlisted Jazz's help to very, _very_ carefully roll the unconscious mech over.

Prowl's Spark glowed eerily between the electrodes holding it stable.

"Okay. Should be safe enough to use the EMP pulse on his back. Only give a narrow, thirty percent beam to the site if he wakes up in pain. It'll knock him back out without risking his Spark. Got that?"

Jazz faced Ratchet and nodded his head. The medic quietly left the room.

"Hey, sexy. It's Jazz. I'm right here with ya, holdin' your hand," Jazz whispered to Prowl's inert form. He doubted Prowl could hear him, but he held his hand and talked to him anyway just in case. "You're gonna be okay, Prowl. I'm staying with you no matter what...so don't worry about anything. Just get yourself better." He kissed Prowl's hand and rubbed his forearm, "I love you so much."

And the hours ticked by. Time was heavy. It hung. It weighed. It trickled through the sluggish pulses of Prowl's weakened Spark and Ratchet's occasional scans.

"Jazz is sure devoted." Optimus whispered from the doorway.

"He's crazy about Prowl. Though I still don't know what he sees in that kid..." Ratchet's voice trailed off as they moved away.

Jazz never left his bond mate's side for even a moment. He sat there on an uncomfortable stool, holding Prowl's hand and stroking his forehead while watching the peaks and valleys glide across the flat screen monitor near the berth. The only movements in the room were Jazz's thumb and Prowl's Spark.

Three hours after surgery, Jazz felt Prowl tense and squeeze his hand. He leaned over and kissed his audio. "It's me, Prowl."

"Jazz..." Prowl grimaced, his breaths cycling in shallow gasps. "Jazz...I'm sorry for--"

Jazz knew exactly what he was trying to say. He also knew Prowl would worry about this unless his concerns were immediately smoothed down.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Jazz kept his voice nonchalant. He saw Prowl's mouth quiver and caressed it with his thumb. "Aw, shhh, it's all right, buddy. Magnus ain't angry anymore."

Prowl twitched and lights flashed on the monitor by the berth. "But I--"

"Hush. It's _fine_," Jazz rubbed Prowl's cheek, trying to soothe him. Every second Prowl spent awake caused his oil pressure to rise. If he kept worrying at this rate, he'd blow a fuel line. Or, worse, break the solder off his battered engine parts. Jazz had to calm him down. "Now take it easy. You're still in rough shape."

Prowl opened his mouth to protest. Jazz dosed him with the EMP generator and whatever he tried to say garbled in a groggy moan.

"If I ever find who did this to you..." Jazz clenched his teeth at the very idea of anyone trying to hurt the one he loved. He pushed the hot, angry bubble away and focused on rubbing his thumb over the bridge of Prowl's nose. Even in unconsciousness Prowl's mouth remained a tense line. It wasn't anything like his usual, cute pout.

_Okay, Primus...you answered my prayers earlier. Now I'm asking of for something one more time. Get Prowl better. Please, he's my everything. He's my Spark. I need him, I can't exist without him. I'm begging you--please...let him get better or take us both, because there's nothing if he ain't with me. You made us for each other. Please don't rip us apart. I'll do whatever you want. Just let Prowl be okay_.

Once again, Primus seemed to listen and respond.

Ratchet entered the room an hour later and declared Prowl's Spark as stable. He removed the electrodes holding it corporeal and its pulse remained strong. Prowl was no longer in imminent danger of going offline.

"Thank you, Primus," Jazz whispered. "Hey, Doc-bot, you ever pray?"

Ratchet made a sour face. "My tools are my prayers, kid. If you've seen as much death as I--"

"I worked in a scrap yard. I've probably put more bots to death than I'd like to admit. All of 'em flawed."

"Eugh, I've done autopsies on some of those. Poor things, but better they're offline than getting in the way of a fight. Back in the day, there used to be a stock pile of their bodies laying around. Flawed mechs are good donors and interesting to study." Ratchet said, shining a light from one of his fingertips across Prowl's visor. The reflective surfaces underneath were shaped just like eyes. Still, Ratchet moved to lift it, so Jazz thought fast.

"Whoa!"

"Huh?" Ratchet jerked his hand back. "What?"

"I thought I--heard something funky in his chest. Like...solder tryin' to pop off."

"Oh?"

Jazz nodded and Ratchet mercifully forgot about Prowl's visor. He touched a sensor to Prowl's chest and pressed a finger to his audio, listening. Then he straightened with a frown and ran an X-ray scan.

"Hm...I don't hear any dripping and the solder looks solid. Must have been a little thermal expansion. Nothing to worry about as long as he doesn't heat up too fast."

"Ah." Jazz nodded his head.

"Well, he's all right for now. Just keep him still for a few more hours and he should be stable enough for a transfer to his own quarters." Ratchet grinned and tapped on Prowl's chest plate. "We won't need the key if he keeps recovering at this rate."

"Sweet!"

"Why don't you get some--"

"Sorry, doc. I'm staying right here. He's calmer when I stay close."

The medic didn't look too happy, but he also decided not to argue. Even if he didn't pray, he seemed to realize the presence of a bond mate was sometimes more healing than any medical procedure.

Ratchet left Prowl's right hand resting on his chest. Jazz smiled at it. He loved Prowl's hands...they were so delicate with long, tapering fingers worn smooth from their constant use as substitute eyes. Jazz sat down by the berth and brushed his fingertip down the length of each gold digit. Then he kissed them one at a time.

"Unh," Prowl moaned. His pained grimace was a sad parody of the face he made just before overload.

Jazz grasped Prowl's hand and cupped the top of his head. "Hey, gorgeous. I'm still here."

Prowl's lips worked in silence. When he finally got his voice out, it was a weak rasp, "I...love...you."

Mech fluid misted on Jazz's optics. Prowl never said that unless he was at the height of ecstasy or felt like death. Like his smile, those words only emerged when he truly, utterly _meant_ them.

Leaning over, Jazz pressed his mouth to those parted lips and sank into Prowl's metallic taste. "I love you, too," he said, meaning it no less than he did every other time those words left his mouth. He touched their foreheads together and thanked Primus a thousand more times.

"Who came?" Prowl twitched and clung weakly to Jazz's fingers. "It...wasn't you."

Talking sent the monitors flashing again.

Jazz figured telling him would calm him down. "That was Optimus. Your visor came loose when you fell. I got there right when he was puttin' it back on for ya. It's still there. Nobody else knows."

Oh, that was the _wrong_ thing to say. Prowl wasn't as rational as he looked. He only heard half of what Jazz said, and it wasn't the half that involved nobody else knowing. His terror and panic stung across the bond. His lips quivered and he started to cry softly.

"I must escape." Prowl wriggled towards the edge of the makeshift berth. His movements set alarms off on the monitor, which only served to frighten him even more. The squirming grew more earnest and he managed to get one leg over the side.

"Prowl!" Jazz shoved him back onto the berth and pinned his shoulders down. "Prowl! Stop. Nobody's taking you anywhere."

"I don't want to die!" Prowl sobbed. His whole body shook so hard it made his armor rattle.

More beeps sounded on the monitor. Oil pressure above normal. Internal temperature rising.

"I'll be taken." He gasped, helplessly kicking the leg he'd thrown over the side of the table. Every movement had to be _agony_--how could he stand it? His voice trembled as much as his frame, "I'll be _taken!_"

There was no arguing logic with him in his delirious state. Jazz took Prowl's face in his hands and peered into his visor. "No. Prowl, listen to me. If they come looking for ya, I'll tell 'em you aren't here."

For a moment, Prowl was still.

Jazz relaxed his grip.

"No!" Prowl screamed, throwing Jazz off him with incredible strength for someone so injured. Then he wrenched himself violently to the side and his body made the most horrible noises Jazz would ever hear in his life. It sounded like reality ripping apart at the seams. Metal crunched and shrieked and the twang of snapping wires shot flaming knives through the quiet room. Prowl's legs went limp while his top half hung off to the side at an angle impossible for a connected spine. All fell silent then, followed by the trickling sound of oil flowing under armor.

And Prowl _still_ tried to crawl off that table...

"**_RATCHET!_**" Jazz screamed over the shrieking monitors. He grabbed Prowl's wrists and cradled his upper body to his chest.

Everyone poured into the room. Prowl's panic intensified to the point that he actually bit dents into Jazz's thumb. Optimus and Bumblebee pinned him against the table.

"Let me go! Please...please..." Prowl wailed, his voice waxing and waning as he jerked his head side to side, "No! Don't! Stop it! I want to live! I want to _live!_ No! Somebody, help me! Jazz! Jazz!"

"Prowl," Jazz covered his face. "Prowl, we're here to help."

"No! Please! Pl--_urgh!_" the rest of what he said dissolved to gurgling.

Bumblebee jumped back, splattered in oil. "Ugh! He's out-putting!"

Ratchet grabbed Prowl's head and shoved a suctioning hose down his throat so he wouldn't inhale his own vomit. "Prowl! Take it easy, kid!"

The hose went flying. Prowl's voice rose again, "Let me GO!"

"I need to dose him. Hold him still!"

"We're trying!"

Heavy footsteps crossed the room. "Let me do this."

It took _Bulkhead_, the strongest Autobot of the group, to stop the squirming. Prowl didn't know his own physical strength.

Jazz tried not to weep at the sight of Bulkhead's huge three-fingered hand pinning this barely recognizable, screaming creature to the berth. Optimus held Prowl's hands above his head and Bumblebee was sitting on his legs--even disconnected they still twitched in spasms that nearly flung the yellow mech off.

"Prowl," Jazz slipped between Bulkhead and Optimus to cradle Prowl's head in his hands. Prowl's face and chest were streaked with oily vomit that stained Jazz's white fingers. "Prowl, hey, hey...easy. Take it easy."

"Th-th-they're--going to kill me," Prowl whispered. He cried so hard his words came out in spurts. "Get me out of here. Jazz, please...I'm--I'm imploring--get me out. I'm scared. I'm so scared. Just g-get me out..."

"Nobody's gonna hurt you," Jazz leaned over. "I'll be right with you the whole time. Now, let the doc put you to sleep so we can fix up your back."

"N-no!" The injured mech's head thrashed side to side, "No dissection! No!"

"That's it. I'm dosing."

Ratchet fired a low level EMP pulse directly at Prowl's head. Prowl even fought that, the taps of his writhing body moving against the conveyer belt rollers beating a cadence in the noisy room. Nobody could keep their grip on him because of the slippery oil coating him and their hands. Ratchet used a stronger pulse. Finally, the tapping slowed until it ceased. Prowl lay still, his jaw slack. He looked nothing like himself and it broke Jazz's heart to see him that way.

"Okay," Optimus breathed, "he's out."

"You sure?" Bumblebee asked.

"Yes."

Ratchet forced Prowl's Spark chamber open and reconnected him to the life support electrodes. A second longer and Prowl's Spark would've extinguished itself.

"Okay, turn him over. Easy now, he's broken in half inside."

Movement on the table. Horrible grinding noises. The air smelled like oil and waste tank water. Steam billowed to indicate severe overheating.

Off came the seat from his back. Oil and lubricant absolutely _poured_ out to splatter on everyone near the table. Optimus moved away from Prowl's head and Jazz saw oil coating his chest. It leaked through the seams in Prowl's armor and dripped in huge puddles all over the floor. Ratchet had him facedown and his back open, both hands buried up to the wrist in ragged wiring.

Prowl's will to live almost killed him.

"Ugh." Bumblebee stepped back and collapsed. Poor kid was too squeamish to handle such a sight.

"Get him out of here!" the medic roared. "Locate Sari and bring her back, we'll be needing that key!"

Bulkhead dutifully scooped the yellow bot up and glanced over his shoulder. "Prowl's gonna be okay, right?" But when no answer came, he silently trudged out. Jazz heard the plunk of Bumblebee being laid on the couch and the rumble of Bulkhead's engine leaving the warehouse.

"He's _shredded!_" Ratchet threw down his wrench. "Optimus, what kind of wiring do you have? I need to rewire his entire spine or he'll be gone before Sari gets here."

"I have gold-based--"

"No good. He'll reject it. I need copper."

Jazz perked up. "I've got copper wiring." Before Ratchet could stop him, Jazz snatched the medical laser off its shelf and cut a long slice across his hips. It burned and he bit back a scream, but he didn't care. He'd give Prowl his Spark if it meant he'd survive. "Use mine!"

"Jazz!" Optimus caught him before he collapsed.

"I got a ton--of redundant backup wires--around my hip joints. Take 'em--it won't hurt my legs."

"You're just going to let--"

"No time to argue." Ratchet cut Optimus off. "Get him on the table!"

Jazz helped Optimus slide him onto the makeshift medical berth. Prowl's feet were inches from his own. He let his head drop onto the table. Ratchet's tools were cold and Jazz grimaced as the skilled medic disconnected and extracted a handful of copper cables from each hip joint.

"Optimus, start fishing out the metal fragments."

Optimus looked like he'd be sick at the gory sight, but he bore it bravely. "R-right."

"I can do--"

"Jazz, weld it! You're in no condition to be on your feet. I need to solder you shut. Don't make me knock you out!"

Jazz felt so helpless just watching everything. Two sets of hands too coated in oil to tell apart worked diligently on Prowl's exposed internals. His back struts were mangled beyond repair. Oil kept leaking despite Ratchet's attempts to stop it and frayed wires glistened eerily in the overhead lights. Pieces of metal were piling up on the floor near Optimus' feet.

Once again, Jazz swore whoever did this would not like it if they crossed paths.

Optimus and Ratchet continued to work. Wire fibers and oil littered the floor. Prowl's spinal wiring began to look a little more like it should as the medi-bot's talented hands braided the cables together amidst the twisted metal.

At last, Ratchet had enough to solder the new wiring to the circuits they connected to. Once again the medic proved his skill as he attached each piece with almost graceful precision.

"He needs energon," Ratchet commented.

Optimus' face fell. "We don't have any on hand that I know of. Still working on the converter. What about oil?"

"Not nutritious enough. He's destabilizing from the fluid loss. We're going to lose him if he doesn't get an infusion. I might have to ask everyone to donate some from their main tanks."

Mercifully, tires screeched outside and erased that possibility. Bulkhead almost bashed the door off its hinges. "I've got Sari!" He cried, carrying the tiny human female in his hands. Without wasting a moment he rushed her right to the table so she could use her key.

It was like magic. Prowl's wounds glowed brilliant white and slowly knit until he appeared brand new. The life support electrodes disconnected themselves as his life signs stabilized. After a few moments the only indications of his ordeal were oil stains and the mess all over the floor.

"Jazz? What about you?" Sari squinted at him.

"Naw, this is no big deal. Ratchet can fix me up."

"You sure?"

Jazz nodded even though his entire pelvis now ached. Pain reminded him he was still alive. "I think we should give Prowl some space. He hates--"

"Sit still!" Ratchet groused.

Jazz closed his mouth. Ratchet soldered the wounds on his hips shut. It hurt worse than having his wires extracted, but not as bad as having Prowl pop his knees back into their sockets. _That_ topped his pain list and he hoped he never had to go through it again.

"Bulkhead, Sari, let's go take a walk." Optimus frowned and headed pointedly to the door. The weariness of the day showed as a dull weight in his normally smooth voice, "We'll give you some room. Ratchet, keep us updated."

"Yes, sir." Ratchet gave a quick salute before refocusing on Jazz. He eyed the wounds he just closed and sighed. "The things love makes you kids do these days. What do you even see in Prowl? No offense, but he's got the personality of a stump."

Jazz laughed despite his exhaustion. "Honestly? It depends on who he's with. When we're alone, he comes out of his shell. There's more to him than meets the eye."

The medic chuckled and put his tools away. He shoved a rust stick at Jazz--it was always good to eat one after having something soldered. "I think you're good for him, personally. Now what I'm wondering is why he made such a scene earlier...know anything about that?"

"That..." Jazz licked the tip of the rust stick before taking a bite, "...I'm not allowed to discuss. I gave my oath as a ninja. Can't break it. Sorry, doc-bot."

His answer annoyed Ratchet. Still, even though he didn't seem very religious himself, he obviously respected the beliefs of those who were. "Just tell me this much--is it anything that will impact his ability to fight in the future?"

"Tch! Naw, definitely not." Jazz smiled, "Prowl's as capable as anyb--"

"Mm..."

Jazz crammed the rust stick into his mouth and moved to bend over Prowl. "Ratchet, got any towels?"

He caught the rag Ratchet threw and gently cleaned the oil from Prowl's face and chest. Prowl never liked appearing undignified in any situation--and waking up to vomit crusted on his face was one quick way to leave him humiliated. He'd been through enough, and Jazz prayed once more to Primus that Prowl's memory chips didn't retain any of his earlier behavior.

"C'mon, Prowl." Jazz dabbed the last drops of oil from Prowl's pouty bottom lip. He smiled when it twitched and quickly replaced the rag with his thumb. "Hey."

Prowl turned towards him and his sweet little mouth offered the tiniest smile.

"That key is going to put me out of a job!" Ratchet grinned over at them, "Welcome back, kid."

"Thank you," Prowl replied and his low rumble sent chills down Jazz's back. To think he came so close to never hearing that voice again. "Where is everyone?"

"Hangin' back. I figured it'd be easier to wake up without a ton of people crowdin' ya. I know you hate that," said Jazz. "Now, Ratchet's headin' your way."

He moved so the medic could stand closer. "Think you can stand up?"

Prowl slid forward--far enough that he wouldn't accidentally step in any of the shed oil on the ground--and hopped to his feet. Jazz forgot to breathe when Prowl arched into a beautiful handstand. Especially when he _smiled_. He hadn't lost an ounce of his grace and balance.

"I feel great. Thank you."

He did the splits just long enough to let his feet touch down one after the other. If he kept up with this sensual act, Jazz swore he'd have no control of his actions.

Then, suddenly, Jazz found himself encircled in Prowl's arms. Whatever happened left Prowl so unsettled that he trembled inside. Doubts crossed his mind despite his peaceful outer appearance. His Spark was in turmoil.

Jazz returned the embrace with reassuring fervor. It felt _wonderful_ to hold Prowl after...everything. His whole existence was right there in his arms.

"I thought you died in that explosion." His bottom lip quivered and he held on tighter, daring anything to try and separate them. He'd fight Megatron, the entire Decepticon army and Death itself with his teeth if it meant he could hold Prowl and tell him how much he loved him. "I thought you _died_. Primus, Prowl...I don't know what I'd do without your smile."

"Jazz..." Prowl also clung tighter. He rubbed Jazz's back and slid his hand across his hip like he always did during a hug, except this time he found the solder. It hurt when he touched it, but Jazz didn't let himself flinch. "What's this?"

Jazz chuckled and explained what happened. Prowl looked horrified, so Jazz threw in a joke at the end. "You sexy fragger, you just keep taking pieces of me. First my Spark, now my wiring...and I ain't complainin'." He winked, leaning closer to Prowl's audio, "B'sides, now I can brag to people that I'm always inside ya."

Prowl groaned, flattered--Jazz loved getting him all flustered like that--and let his forehead thump against Jazz's chest. "You have a one track mind."

Jazz laughed in the same moment he heard the door close. Ratchet slipped out on them, probably thinking they'd want privacy. Good, maybe Prowl would feel more inclined to talk about what happened to him.

Prowl did exactly as Jazz expected.

"Lockdown...he's...flawed."

Lockdown? So _he_ was behind this? And...what? Flawed? Jazz had to clamp hard on his anguish so it wouldn't blast Prowl's unsuspecting Spark. He forced nonchalance into his voice, "Eh? Really? What's his issue?"

Prowl squeezed his arm. "He's deaf. 'Deaf as a post' in his words."

Jazz could remember running into Lockdown a few times on Cybertron. He never liked the guy. Too many spikes, too many parts that didn't match. Not stylish at ALL, just...ugly. And he spoke so clearly...it was hard to believe he couldn't hear a thing.

"Wow..." He stroked the back of Prowl's neck, turning his anger into love. "Never woulda known."

Even more irritating, he'd actually feel _guilty_ if he ever had to execute the bastard. He'd be doing what he swore never to do again--kill a flawed mech. He wasn't sure if his conscience could take it if it came to that.

"That makes him and I brothers in a way. I can't turn him in when--"

"Say no more," Jazz touched Prowl's lips. He'd never force Prowl to go against his own morals, either. "I get it."

They were quiet for a moment, holding tightly to each other and relishing what they thought they'd lost. Jazz thanked Primus each time he felt Prowl's Spark pulse behind his chest plates.

Now if only time would stand still...

"I need to face Optimus," Prowl said.

Jazz smiled, hugging him closer and pressing a soft kiss against his audio sensor. He felt Prowl nuzzle his neck, his silent way of saying he liked something. Picking up on it, Jazz resumed rubbing small circles into the back of his neck.

"I dunno if you remember me telling you, but Optimus and I talked a bit and he wouldn't turn ya in. Not even with threats of death."

That only offered Prowl minimal relief. He wouldn't relax until he spoke to the boss-bot himself.

"I don't remember much after Lockdown kicked me out of his ship."

More hot anger welled in Jazz's stomach. He longed to ask Prowl what else Lockdown might have done to him, but bit back the urge. Prowl would tell him everything himself when he felt ready.

Jazz sent some positive thoughts across the bond before reluctantly letting go of Prowl. "I'll let you two talk alone in private."

Prowl nodded his head and plopped to sit on the conveyor belt serving as a medical berth. Jazz caught his hand and kissed it, which made Prowl smile in his direction. He knew Prowl loved little gestures like that because being touched and kissed told him that he wasn't repulsive. So Jazz did all he could to remind Prowl of just how gorgeous he was.

Smiling himself, Jazz ducked through the door and gave Optimus a little wave. The Prime--now clean--nodded, and they shouldered past each other. Jazz plopped onto the cement couch and utilized the dirty rag Optimus obviously used to wipe the oil muck off his armor.

"Hey!" Bumblebee padded into the living area with a container of flux in his left hand, "I was sitting there!"

"Ya snooze, ya lose," Jazz grinned and moved his legs so the other bot had room to sit. "Gonna share any of that?"

Bumblebee sighed and offered Jazz the container. Jazz scooped some onto his finger and nibbled on it. Flux was one of those things that tasted good hot or cold. "How's your head, 'Bee? You hit it pretty hard when you went down in the other room."

"Oh...um..." Bumblebee rubbed the faint dent in his helm. Embarrassment twisted his voice small, "fine. Ugh...that was so gross!" Yet he contradicted how disgusting the experience was by grabbing a huge wad of flux and shoving it into his mouth. "You ever see anything that gross?"

Jazz's head instantly filled with the faces and bodies of the most grotesquely flawed mechs that never saw the end of the assembly line, let alone Sparks. These were bodies assembled without full closure in the torso, innards being welded to the outer armor instead of inside, missing heads, open braincases...if Jazz had a weak fuel processor he would've lost his appetite. But such exposure desensitized him to gore, so he just kept eating.

"I've seen a lot of nasty slag, 'Bee. Stuff I never want to talk about."

"No problem, I get it. Ratchet's the same way."

"Oh?" Jazz sat up. "Is he really a cantankerous old bot?"

"Yup. Sometimes he's moodier than Prowl, and Prowl's pretty moody."

An old desire prickled up Jazz's armor plating. He glanced at Ratchet, who was recharging on the exercise mat near the TV set. Leaning over to Bumblebee, he eyed the flux container. "Wanna prank him?"

Bumblebee's thin mouth twisted in an evil grin, "I like how you think. What'cha planning?"

Jazz whispered the plans into his audio.

Two minutes later, Bumblebee was pouring warm flux all over Ratchet's palm while Jazz stood off to the side with a stray piece of aluminum fiber.

"Get ready to run like the Pit," Jazz whispered. He reached out and tickled the sleeping medi-bot's cheek with the prickly fibers. The first few times, Ratchet's mouth twitched. Jazz moved the aluminum up under his nose. Ratchet smacked himself to remove the irritant and splattered flux all across half his face. It made a sound much like Sari's occasional flatulence.

"Augh! What the?" Ratchet bolted upright and stared at his hand.

"RUN!" Jazz yelled. Bumblebee dove for the couch and Jazz, laughing leapt into the rafters. Two seconds later he found himself and Bumblebee yanked right back to Ratchet, whose arms glowed with magnetic power.

"So you two think that's _funny_, do you?" The medic growled. He shook his head, flux flying everywhere and splattering on the hapless bots stuck to his arms. "Get outta here! I don't have time for slaggers like you! Grr!"

"What's going--" Bulkhead took a flux wad to the eyes. Blinded, he staggered until he tripped over the couch and almost knocked a hole in the wall. "OOF!"

Jazz doubled over in helpless laughter at how Bulkhead's legs turned circles in the air.

"Uh...help?" the large mech grunted, "I'm stuck!"

The only thing louder than Bumblebee's laughter was the clank-clunk-bang of him pelting the downed Bulkhead with wads of flux.

"Hey!" Bulkhead protested, "No fair!"

"You fragging sons of glitches!"

Bulkhead finally tipped over. His fall shook the warehouse and everybody on this side of Detroit had to have heard it.

"Five points to whoever hits Optimus when that door opens?"

Jazz grabbed a flux wad. "You're on, 'Bee!"

It wasn't a long wait. The door flew open after Bulkhead fell. The piece Bumblebee lobbed fell a few feet short. Jazz caught Optimus full on the chest and Prowl got the shrapnel. He knew Prowl's strategy was to go for the rafters, so he jumped up there first.

"Flux fight!" yelled Bumblebee, and Optimus slapped his palm into his face with an annoyed sigh.

Sure enough, Prowl peeled the flux off the stunned Prime's chest, leaped into the rafters and fired it straight into Bulkhead's face. For the second time, Bulkhead tripped, which left Prowl distracted and open.

Jazz pounced, smearing flux all over Prowl's pouty bottom lip. Then he grabbed his shoulders and sucked it back off, loving how good "Prowl" flavored flux tasted. Their kiss was hot, passionate and hungry, their entangled lips and tongues saying things about the day's events that no words ever could.

"Gotcha," Jazz crowed softly against those wonderful lips.

"Oh?" Prowl sounded equally excited. He grinned wickedly and cold flux splattered on Jazz's chest. Prowl smeared it around. There was a promise written in the way his fingers caressed the mess he made and how he said, "Leave it. I'll clean it up later."

Jazz's circuits nearly fried. That tone of voice, oh, _Primus_, it was a glimpse of the animal Prowl became during overload. "Ooh...I love it when you get kinky." He inched closer, whispering in his ear, "Wanna ditch this mess for some alone time?

Prowl's smile sweetened. He licked some of the flux off his index finger and Jazz felt instantly jealous. "Give me a twenty minute head start into the forest and you have a deal."

If Prowl had brow ridges, Jazz was sure he would've waggled them. "Okay. Twenty minutes and not one nanosecond more."

Bumblebee's laughter bubbled from somewhere in the far corner. Flux went splat and Bulkhead's footsteps crashed across the floor. The chaos below had no effect on the serenity of the rafters.

Prowl leaned in for another kiss. Then he gracefully flipped down and retreated into his quarters.

Jazz started his internal timer when he heard Prowl's motor roaring away.

.o

Late afternoon sun shone down on Jazz when he arrived at the forest's edge and transformed into his bipedal form. From there it was a short walk to the coordinates passed to him via his private com channel. He padded silently along the forest path, taking in how the falling leaves and the shadows of bare branches made lengthening tentacle-like patterns on the forest floor. How much of that could Prowl sense with his visor?

Jazz found Prowl, sans visor, sitting cross-legged on the ground of their first campsite, his posture a perfect picture of tranquility. There was a small campfire burning on Prowl's left, casting him in flickering gold. He'd hung a black pan of melted silver solder over the fire to keep it fluid, and the tangy scent wafted deliciously on the wind. A shallow aluminum bowl surrounded by orange and red autumn leaves sat atop a small, portable metal table near his knees. The bowl and the center of the table were electromagnetic, both bearing the same charge. To the bowl's right, a palm-sized pot of liquid energon. At its left, a very old lead ladle covered in ancient engravings.

Prowl didn't give any indications of realizing he wasn't alone. For a moment Jazz just stood there to admire how the firelight danced over Prowl's distinguished features. He didn't even notice Prowl's face lacked eyes anymore. He just looked at him and saw _beautiful_.

Silently, Prowl readjusted himself to sit on his knees and dipped his head, flashing a tiny, slightly sheepish smile. He was initiating an ancient Energon Ceremony, and did it exactly as seen in the old _Tales From the Lover's Spark_ novel. Energon Ceremonies were a ritualistic means of deepening an established Spark bond that dated back to the very first Transformers to walk Cybertron.

It didn't take Jazz long to realize most of Prowl's romantic ideas came from the novel. How utterly adorable...Prowl was so innocent and sweet whenever he attempted things like this, but Jazz liked it because he knew Prowl never treated these gestures as obligations. Especially since Prowl could take a simple motion and turn it into something utterly _sensual_.

Jazz retracted his visor. He brought his hands together and bowed before stepping up to the table and mirroring Prowl's posture. The ceremony was performed in silence, a means of showing their love wasn't based solely on words. Jazz could immediately tell Prowl had practiced this alone many times--his performance was flawless.

With a flicker of his hand, Prowl activated the magnet in the table's center. The empty bowl rose to hover an inch above the table top. His right hand drifted to the energon container. He tilted it once, twice, three times, each pour causing the bowl to ring a different tone until he'd filled it halfway with glowing fuchsia liquid. Doing this without tipping the bowl took incredible skill. The energon container was then set aside and Prowl laid his right hand in his lap.

Then Prowl's left hand moved to the ladle lying beside the bowl. He touched his index finger to the cup of the ladle and slid it all the way backwards towards the tip of the handle, a motion that made Jazz's Spark throb faster. Prowl's fingertip returned to the handle's center and he grasped it, his hand steady as he scooped a small portion of liquid silver from the pot over the fire. He held the ladle there while his right hand once again came into action. With just his fingertip, he touched the bowl, moving it in slow circles around the rim that gradually sent the bowl spinning and heated Jazz's internals. The energon inside hardly rippled, reflecting his inner calm--and his ability to not splash the contents was yet another show of skill.

Finally, his smile going from sheepish to gentle, Prowl lifted the ladle, tapped it once on the burbling pan and brought it towards the bowl. Silver droplets on the rim caught the firelight and steam followed its path as he traced the mathematical symbol for infinity in the air, a mark for how long they'd be in love. He tilted the ladle with liquid grace, moving nothing beyond his wrist. The silver trickled out to form a perfect spiral in the swirling energon. Not one drop went to waste during the pouring or the process of setting the ladle back down on the table. Once more, he traced the handle's length with his fingertip before letting his hand join its brother in his lap.

Then Prowl halted the spinning bowl by cupping it in his palms, showing his skill again by not splashing anything, and offered it up to Jazz. Every motion was utterly imbued with sensuality.

Jazz cupped his hands beneath Prowl's and let him lay the hot bowl on his palms. He drew it to his lips, sipped the steaming mix and smiled. Perfectly prepared--he could taste the tangy silver and sweet energon equally. He turned the bowl halfway, then handed it to Prowl exactly as it was handed to him. They repeated the gesture, passing the bowl back and forth between sips until only one mouthful remained. As the ceremonial receiver, Jazz took half into his mouth first. Prowl accepted the other half and they leaned forward, still cupping the bowl in their hands. Their lips met in the same instant they swallowed, thus sharing the last taste simultaneously.

The kiss marked the ceremony's end. It would not be sacrilegious to speak now.

"I've always wanted to do a ceremony for someone," said Prowl.

"It was gorgeous, Prowl," Jazz was still in awe of how well Prowl did that without eyesight. "Just like you."

"Thank you." Prowl touched the side of his face and shook his head, "I was so nervous..."

Jazz cocked his head. "Ya were? It didn't show. 'Course...your attractiveness is kinda blinding so--" a playful slap to the arm made him laugh, "ack!"

Prowl just grinned and set the ladle and bowl in a small basin of water to soak. He folded the table into a cube half its original size and able to contain the rest of the Energon Ceremony equipment.

Jazz couldn't stand it anymore. He pounced on Prowl, smothering him in kisses trailing all over his face, throat and chest.

"Those hours I thought you were gone..." Jazz relished Prowl's soft moans and answering kisses, "...they were the Pit. I was empty. I was ready to kill myself."

"Jazz!" Prowl shoved him away and sat up, clutching Jazz's face so their eyes were level...or would be, if Prowl had any. "Why? Why kill yourself? That's foolish!"

"I'd rather die to be with you than live without you, Prowl."

"You idiot." Prowl whispered through shuddering lips. He smiled, "I swore I'd never die on you. Have a little faith."

That made Jazz laugh and crush his mouth in a hungry kiss. Between lip locks, he whispered, "You're so awesome, Prowl."

He felt Prowl's lips gradually shifting towards his throat, down over his shoulder and finally to the crusted flux smeared across his chest. Jazz groaned--Prowl was licking the twelve inch thick armor between his Spark and the outside world. His Spark throbbed and tried to reach out. Unable to resist, Jazz let his armor part and Prowl's tongue contacted his essence.

"Ungh! Uh! Oh...Prowl...Ohhh...I want you..."

"Then you have me...on one condition."

"Oh?"

"Let's make love in the sunset." Prowl smirked, putting his visor back on and sliding away. Playing hard to get, was he? He slipped out into a clearing and darted towards a fallen log by the lake. The air was cool and moist, foretelling a storm in more ways than one.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Jazz laughed, racing after his dark lover. Their feet stirred dead leaves lying in the dirt as they scrambled around the log. Jazz finally succeeded in toppling Prowl across it and pinned his wrists above his head. "Gotcha. What now, sexy?"

Prowl's voice dropped to a dangerous register, a hint of the animal waiting to be unleashed. "You reap your reward, Jazz."

Panting, needing, Jazz wrapped Prowl's left leg around his waist and plugged himself into Prowl's burning port. Oh, Primus, they fit together so perfectly. He coaxed Prowl's chest plates open and leaned down, kissing him as their Sparks came together in a burst of color.

_I love you. I love you. I love you_... Jazz pulsed, and Prowl's smile was more beautiful than the sunset happening practically above his head.

From there it was the sizzling, burning and roiling pulses of their Sparks dancing amidst kisses, caresses and waves of emotion.

"Is...is the sunset beautiful, Jazz?"

"Uh-huh, I've got the best view." Jazz kissed Prowl's audio. "You."

Prowl kissed him hard for that. Jazz found himself teetering on the precipice of overload. The feelings blasting between their Sparks nearly made him break down in tears with how much he adored the dark being lying in his arms.

"P-Prowl...at the edge...you feel so--_oh_--good...ahhhh...I love you...Prowl...you gorgeous--" he kissed him, "wonderful--" another kiss, "incredibly sexy--" and one last kiss, "mech..."

"_Ohhh_...oh...oh, Jazz..." Prowl's excitement increased tenfold. Compliments had the same effect on him as rain on a parched flower. They brought light to his darkest shame.

_My love, my love_... Prowl's Spark throbbed as he nibbled Jazz's bottom lip. Jazz didn't know if it was Prowl's teeth or what his Spark said that made his body shiver. Then he felt Prowl deliberately increase his port output by at least fifty percent, and sparks spat between their heated bodies. The feedback overwhelmed Jazz, jerking him over the edge with such ferocity that he swore the whole forest heard how fragging much he loved his bond mate.

"Unh! Ohhh, Prowl! Oh..._oh!_ Unh--g-going..._slag_...ooh--_ooh_--Pr...unh!--**_PROWL!_**"

Prowl gasped and arched his back, his head flopping to the left as his body grew suddenly tense. He was grimacing and fierce. Jazz drank in the sight of how turned on and sexy Prowl was before bending down to kiss him hard.

"_J-Jazz_..." Prowl stretched his hands over his head. Jazz traced the length of his arms and entwined their fingers. Rainbow sensation and Prowl's swirling emotions coursed across his neural network.

Prowl was trying so hard to hold off his overload. Jazz giggled inwardly at the cute way he chewed his pouty bottom lip. He nibbled Prowl's throat, his jack plug thrumming harder and harder until his name became the growled chant of a sensual beast unleashed. Prowl threw his head back so far it looked like it'd fly off his shoulders. Jazz tasted the entire length of his throat--Primus, Prowl's neck was so long and graceful!--and crawled forward a few inches to capture his mouth in a crackling orgasmic kiss. Prowl's response was vicious, all teeth and tongue. If Jazz hadn't been so spent, he would've overloaded again just from _that_.

Jazz ached with how close he came to never seeing this moment again. He'd begun to take things a little for granted...but never again. Every day could be their last.

_We'll be fine, Jazz. Don't worry. I made a promise I don't intend to break._

_Prowl..._

_Shhh, I'm here. I'm right here_.

Then, slowly, their moans dissolved to intake systems cooling burning internals. Their lips remained touching and their arms stayed tightly wrapped around each other. It took the air around them a few moments to dispel the heat generated by their lovemaking.

"How's...the sunset...look now?" gasped Prowl. He still shook from the power of their joining.

"Looks sexy and satisfied."

"Funny, so do you." Prowl butted him with his nose. "And the real sunset?"

Jazz turned his head a half inch to check. "Dunno. It's clouding over. Gonna get a storm pretty soon."

"I need to pick up the ceremonial equipment. The rain water will taint the--"

Jazz quieted him with a kiss, smiled and helped him up. "Prowl, take it easy. The storm won't get here for--" he paused, swearing he saw the trees in the east shimmer unnaturally in the dimming evening glow. Deciding not to alarm Prowl unnecessarily, he went on, "--another hour, at least. And I brought a small force field generator to keep the rain off. Don't worry."

"Oh." Prowl leaned on him. "Good, I'm...I'm so tired. I'd fall over in recharge if I had to rush through anything."

Jazz chuckled and gave Prowl's aft a playful tap before wrapping his arm around his tiny waist. "I wouldn't mind if ya fell asleep in my arms, Prowl. You can sleep there any time you want."

Prowl smiled softly at that. He slid his arm around Jazz's waist and they made their way back to camp to prepare for the weather.

.o

Prowl wasn't kidding when he said he was tired. Less than an hour after cleaning up the ceremonial equipment and setting the force field up...he put his head down on Jazz's shoulder and dropped right into recharge.

That night, Jazz discovered Prowl snored if he fell into sleep mode while sitting up. Didn't matter which direction Jazz turned his head for him...Prowl continued to let out little, purring snores. He was also a heavy sleeper--it was thundering so loud the ground shook and he never twitched.

On the other hand, Jazz was a very light sleeper. So light that he'd never get any recharge with the rain pounding down. Eventually he'd shut down until morning, but voluntarily entering sleep mode in this noise proved impossible, and he always jolted awake at the slightest sounds. So he sat up, wide awake and watching over Prowl.

Jazz smiled and let his mind drift to a conversation they had shortly before Prowl dozed off.

_"Hey, Prowl, what are your dreams like? I mean...I dream in color and stuff--"_

_"I dream just like I experience the real world. In sound, taste, smell and touch."_

Jazz still kicked himself for daring to assume Prowl lacked the ability to dream. Crying worked the same way--he made all the sounds and facial expressions, there just weren't any tears. So it seemed fitting that he'd be capable of dreaming as well. He meant to ask Prowl what he dreamed about, but Prowl dozed off before he got the chance.

Jazz gazed adoringly at the snoring figure slumped against his chest. Prowl looked so peaceful, smiling even in his sleep. When was the last time Prowl recharged this deeply? Considering his life he must have found sleep a frightening concept when any moment could find him awakened by mechs ready to expose his flaw. Yet here, in Jazz's arms, he slept without fear. This was probably the best rest of his life.

_You don't have to worry about anything with me around,_ Jazz thought. He nuzzled Prowl's cheek with his own. _I'll always have your back, Prowl_.

Jazz blinked tiredly and looked to the east. Once again he noticed something weird about the trees. They weren't moving in the wind and the rain seemed to bounce off an invisible dome around them. That meant a hologram inside a force field, and holograms usually meant...

_Lockdown_. Jazz's lower jaw tightened. _That glitch is still on Earth!_

His mind already made up, Jazz eased Prowl to lie on one of the portable berths he brought along. Then he retrieved something from a panel in his left leg and ducked outside through a gap in the force field, which was hidden between two bushes.

As it turned out, Lockdown didn't make himself hard to find. The bounty hunter's tuneless whistling squeaked over the patter of rain falling through the trees. Too easy to pinpoint. Jazz soundlessly scaled the nearest pine tree and hopped from bough to bough until Lockdown's back faced him. He was no fool--Lockdown likely had some means of making up for his inability to hear. Oscillators like Prowl's, perhaps?

At the moment, it appeared Lockdown was emptying his waste tank, which meant he paid no attention to his environment.

Jazz pulled a pine cone off the branch above him and tossed it to Lockdown's left. The mismatched mech didn't respond. Maybe he didn't have his ears turned on. Perhaps the rain made their readings impossible to decipher, or even caused pain the way rapidly flashing colors and lights sent Prowl into fits of agony. It was an advantage Jazz planned to press.

Lockdown finished and slowly plodded through puddles to pick up an oil canister sitting on a tree stump.

Jazz pressed a button on the object into his hand and it deployed into a pale blue ring with an energy chain on one side. A stasis collar, something not seen since the war ended. They didn't cripple mechs like stasis cuffs did, but they did disable weaponry and cut power to their body by fifty percent, rendering them virtually powerless while maintaining their ability to walk.

Lightning illuminated the landscape for one ten-thousandth of a second. Thunder smashed like a hammer, hard enough that Lockdown glanced up at the sky. He smirked and his broad mouth seemed to split his skull-like face in half. Then he turned away again. Didn't he realize he was vulnerable?

Jazz slithered towards the ground and walked right up to Lockdown. He tapped him on the shoulder and, when Lockdown turned, slugged him so hard the bang echoed over the rain. Jazz slapped the collar around Lockdown's neck before he recovered from the blow and flung him into the mud, his full lips pulled back in a cruel sneer.

"What the!" The bounty hunter waved his chain saw uselessly in the air, "Hey!"

Jazz knelt and wrapped the energy chain three times around his wrist, yanking Lockdown up to eye level. He made sure Lockdown could see his mouth to read his lips. "Hi there, Lockdown. How's it going?"

"I've had better days," Lockdown drawled, trying to sound calmer than the terrified chill Jazz sensed racing through his internals. He was so coated in mud that only his pale face stood out in the darkness.

"Oh, I bet you have." Jazz growled. Everything inside him desired seeing Lockdown lying in a dismantled heap on the forest floor. "I've got something to say to you. So pay attention, punk, 'cause I'm only sayin' it once."

Lockdown gazed languidly up at Jazz, his demure expression never slipping. "Get it over with."

"I want you to get your aft off this planet and away from Prowl. If you come back, I better not find out about it. _You won't like it_, Lockdown." Jazz flung Lockdown against the ground and pulled him up again, fighting the furious heat boiling in his fuel pumps. It took all of his self control to keep his voice calm. "If you get arrested anywhere else, it'll be because of your crimes and not your flaw--yeah, I know about it. Don't expect me to speak for you if that happens, because I won't--"

"Puh-leese, your speech is putting me to sleep."

"Shut up!" Jazz dug his thumb into the side of Lockdown's throat, pressing on a sensory node that made the bounty hunter hiss in pain. "I don't have to kill you, Lockdown, but I don't have to save you, either. And right now I'd give anything to see you slagged for what you did to Prowl."

"Oh?" Lockdown said. "So, ninja, what's stopping you? If you're so high and mighty, what's stopping you? Morals? Tch! If you Autobots have such strong morals, why do you kill your flawed? Whatever happened to this whole 'protect life' mantra you chant?" He smirked and his small, flat teeth glistened in the dim light. He was brave, Jazz gave him that much. "Oh, wait, only _perfect_ bots are allowed to live. And you're telling me I should be slagged? Look in the mirror!"

"_Nobody's_ perfect." Jazz grinned acerbically, Lockdown's words rolling off like the rain. A lightning flash shimmered across his visor, giving it the appearance of a deadly blade. His anguish burned so hot that only the rain kept its heat from consuming them both in its roiling jaws. It pounded against his Spark chamber and poured maelstrom after swirling maelstrom into the left hand he had resting on Lockdown's chest. Hate...it was so oily thick and black...he couldn't believe it existed inside his Spark. "Life's a bigger glitch than death when it doesn't go your way. You'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you? You cheap slag heap! You make me sick!"

"Oh, stop it, you're making me cry," Lockdown rolled his eyes and feigned a yawn. "Are you done yet?"

Growling, Jazz hopped upright and dragged Lockdown to his feet with him. He tugged him towards the shimmering, fake trees ten paces away. "You're going to get on your ship and leave. I'll stand here until I see you take off. And don't you fool around. I _can_ get Ultra Magnus' attention...and he'd love to talk to you about a few things. Don't make me do that, Lockdown."

Lockdown's expression grew dour as rain washed the mud off his features. He dispelled the hologram, revealing his ship in all its mismatched glory.

"I was just giving Prowl a chance to live without fear. He's an idiot to risk it around non-flaws." He quirked his broad mouth, "By the way, his overloads are quite a show. Always had a feeling he was an animal on the berth...the quiet ones always are. I've got it all recorded in my memory chips. Close-ups, audio and all. Heh, people'd pay a lot to see something like that. Heh, heh, he-OOF!"

Jazz shut him up with an elbow to the gut. Every atom of his being boiled. "You. Ship. **_NOW!_**"

Lockdown snickered, clearly amused by the rise he'd gotten. "What about the collar? Do I get to keep it for bondage gear?"

"It's programmed to deactivate in thirty minutes." Jazz pulled the chain off and shoved Lockdown towards his ship's airlock. A chill entered his smooth voice, "Or maybe I rigged it to electrify, and it'll cripple you permanently if you don't get inside in the next sixty seconds. D'ya really want to frag around with me that way?"

"You wouldn't--"

"_Try_ me."

The bounty hunter narrowed his red optics in a baleful stare. Jazz curled his lip and glared back with equal venom. Lightning flashed four times in rapid sequence, casting both in icy shadows

"Fifty seconds." Jazz said. "Tick tock."

Lockdown lumbered through the airlock, pausing only to shoot a last, hateful look over his shoulder. He said nothing because no words or gestures would have any impact on his current situation. The only thing going for him was nobody else witnessed this humiliation, and they both knew it.

The airlock groaned shut and Jazz stepped back. He heard the engines rumble. Five minutes later, after a full power-up, the intimidating-looking bounty hunter's ship shot off into the swirling clouds.

Jazz stood there while the lightening rain washed the mud off his white chrome armor. When he couldn't see Lockdown's ship anymore, he turned and made his way into the trees. The rain eased to a gentle drizzle by the time he reached camp.

Silence at last.

Punching Lockdown felt good, but nowhere near as good as cuddling up to Prowl. Jazz eased Prowl to lie against his chest and forced the ugly hatred out of his mind.

"Mm...Jazz? Where did you go?" Prowl asked sleepily. Without his visor on, it was hard to tell whether or not he was in sleep mode.

"I took care of some business." Jazz brushed his lips over where Prowl's eyes should've been and rubbed his back, smiling. Touching Prowl purified his Spark, chasing away the last remnants of rage.

"Are you all right?"

"Mmhmm." Jazz genuinely grinned into the gentle fingers probing his facial expression. "Everything's fine, Prowl. Go back to sleep."

Prowl pressed their lips together, smiled and dozed right back off without another word. Jazz put Lockdown out of his mind. He nuzzled Prowl's cheek and joined him in peaceful recharge.

.o

When Jazz awoke, it was to a clear sky and air that smelled cleaner than anything he ever breathed in his life. Water droplets created miniature diamonds on every leaf, grass blade and Prowl's visor, which sat on top of the force field generator. Some of the drops jiggled in the chilly morning breeze, causing flickering rainbows to dazzle Jazz's eyes.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the sight of Prowl practicing his katas in the light of the rising sun.

Jazz stood at the bottom of the hill and watched his bond mate turn poetry into motion. Prowl flowed from one posture to the next like a living shadow. He embodied everything Jazz called beautiful, and when the katas were finished and he turned his head to smile in Jazz's direction, Jazz didn't even notice his lack of eyes.

"Good morning, Jazz. Did you have pleasant dreams?"

"Mornin', and yeah, I did...but ya know what, Prowl?" Jazz scaled the hill and kissed the smile he'd never take for granted again. "Any dream is awesome if I get to wake up to your face. Which reminds me...what does a bot like you dream about?"

"What do _I_ dream about?" Prowl's smile shivered. He wrapped his arms around Jazz's neck and whispered against his audio, "It's in my arms right now..._fondling my aft_."

"Now how did that get there?" Jazz guiltily took his hand off Prowl's backside.

"Jazz, put it back." Prowl reached around and splayed his hand across Jazz's skid plate. "Or _else_."

"Or else what?"

Prowl slapped a hand on either side of Jazz's face and kissed him hard, shoving him against the tree behind him.

"Ooh," Jazz grinned between lip locks, "I should avoid your aft more often."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Wait, Prowl..."

Prowl paused, his head tilted and small lips parted in amorous need. This was the kind of openness he never showed anyone else. "What?"

"Nothin'." Jazz gazed at him in complete adoration. The look on Prowl's face made him fall in love with him all over again. "Just wanted to tell you you're gorgeous and I love you."

Prowl's smile put the sun to shame. "I know."


End file.
